


Reactions to Tea: Mai's Reaction

by sinistercinnamon



Series: A Taste of Tea [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Flashbacks, M/M, Mai has feelings too you know, POV Mai (Avatar), POV Zuko (Avatar), Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Mai, Setting Boundaries, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), and a teeny bit of fluff, but also more hurt, discussions about consent, everyone has a lot of feelings here, you had the hurt now here's the comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:47:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27610883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinistercinnamon/pseuds/sinistercinnamon
Summary: Sequel to The Taste of Tea.[The longer she read, the worse it got. And the worst bits of all were not where he described what had happened to him, but the blame he cast on himself.]Things were bound to be awkward, rekindling a relationship after being apart for three years, but Mai hadn't expected it to be this difficult.
Relationships: Mai/Zuko (Avatar), past Zhao/Zuko
Series: A Taste of Tea [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004679
Comments: 45
Kudos: 445





	Reactions to Tea: Mai's Reaction

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, I decided to write more for this angsty AU after all. Instead of a single multi-chapter fic like I'd originally envisioned (& discarded) this'll be a series of oneshots of various characters finding out what happened & their reactions.
> 
> This one wasn't meant to be as long as it ended up being, but it turns out these two have A LOT of feelings.
> 
> Also I'm kinda surprised there aren't more fics dealing with Zuko & Mai reuniting after 3 years where Mai reacts to the fact that uh he has a scar now.

_- **Zuko** -_

He should be happy. He’d got everything he wanted.

The Avatar was… no longer a problem, and even though he hadn’t been the one to deal the final blow, the fact that he’d helped seemed to have counted for something, and now he was going home, honour restored.

And he’d only had to throw Uncle under the charging komodo-rhino to do it.

He tried telling himself that it was the right thing to do. The man had sided with the Avatar over his own nation. (The nation that burned innocent people and drove them from their homes. The nation that burned towns and imprisoned people for fighting back. The nation that everyone hated and feared.) He had failed to protect Zuko from Zhao. (But once he had learned the truth, he’d given nothing but comfort and reassurance. And he had made sure that Zhao would never ever hurt him again, even though he knew what the consequences could be.)

He was going home, after three long years.

He should be happy.

It was just nerves, probably. He’d spent so much time away. Things were bound to be different.

Like his relationship with Mai, for instance.

On the one hand, Mai herself was the same girl he remembered – quiet, with a sense of humour so dry that he sometimes found it hard to tell whether or not she was joking, beautiful, with her long black hair worn in buns instead of the topknots and phoenix plumes normally favoured by nobility, and deadly with a throwing knife.

If anything, she was quieter, more beautiful, and even deadlier than before.

But the problem was that _Zuko_ was different. She’d only become more perfect, while he was tainted.

He didn't want to even dare to hope that she might understand. His crew had seemed to respect him, at least in the short time before they’d had to part company when he and Uncle had had to flee into the Earth Kingdom to avoid being arrested for Zhao’s murder. Uncle had listened to him (eventually), reassured him, had accepted his exile with no trace of resentment towards Zuko, even though he wouldn’t have had to step in to protect him if Zuko was able to protect himself.

But Mai spent so much time with his sister. She seemed the same quiet, calm girl he remembered (even quieter, calmer). And she looked him in the face with no sign of disgust at the scar (at least aside from the initial widening of eyes and staring, before she caught herself, but everyone did that the first time they saw it – they couldn't help it – and he was used to it by now). But what if some of Azula's cruelty had rubbed off?

And even if she understood, even if she didn't sneer at his weakness...

He didn't just want understanding. He liked her. When they'd reunited in the palace in Ba Sing Se after Azula's takeover and the fall of the Avatar, it was almost like they were in a different palace, awkwardly blushing and exchanging glances and fumbling over words.

But there was no way she'd want any kind of relationship with him after she learned he was... Tainted. Ruined. Disgusting.

She was starting to pick up on his tension too. It was hard for him to hide.

Even the hand-holding and kisses were almost too much. Having someone close to him like that, when even Uncle was careful in how he embraced him, and knew the signs when Zuko was becoming uncomfortable. Mai did not know those signs. He was sure she must be able to sense how tense he was though. It at least felt different enough that he could remember that this was Mai, this was fine.

Then she would rest a hand on his arm, or wind her arms around him, or rest a hand on his thigh as she leaned in to deepen a kiss... And suddenly the hand would be bigger, the arms would be restraining him, not embracing, and he would panic, pushing her away and making excuses.

Last time was the worst.

They'd been in her cabin, sitting on her bunk, kissing. And then she'd leaned into him, stroking both arms up his sides, and around to his back, and then had leaned in, pushing him backwards.

And suddenly it had been a different cabin, on a different ship, someone holding him down, leering above him.

He'd shoved her away hard and lurched to his feet, staggering from the room, not even aware if he'd made any kind of excuse as he went. He'd made it out of the room, but he hadn't closed the door properly and hadn't made it far enough down the corridor before he'd been unable to prevent himself from throwing up.

How could anyone interpret something like that? Being intimate with someone, only to have them shove you away violently and immediately throw up?

And his disgust probably made his general awkwardness around her look bad. They'd been apart for three years, and however much it might feel like nothing had changed, everything had and they were trying to get to know each other all over again. And he felt stupid and clumsy next to her. Even after commanding a crew, even after travelling the Earth Kingdom, even after having an actual job, he wasn't very good with people, and he didn't think she was either.

But when taken alongside his reactions to her touch, his awkwardness looked like him lying badly. Like he was stringing her along and doing a terrible job.

What was he supposed to do? There wasn't exactly a polite way of saying 'Your touch makes my skin crawl'. There was no way of phrasing it that didn't come off as insulting towards her.

And how could he tell her the truth? What would she think of him?

Now he stood on the deck, staring at the moon as if that could give him answers.

And then there was the noise of the door opening behind him and Mai joined him at the rail, though at a distance.

There was a long silence, and he realised it was up to him to break it. The problem was he didn’t know how. What was he supposed to say?

What he managed was a quiet, hesitant, “I’m sorry.”

He heard her move, though he was too scared to look up and see what she was doing. He could tell she was angry though, even without hearing her tone. “Sorry for what? For finding me repulsive? For stringing me along? For whatever stupid secrets you’re keeping?”

He wanted to refute those things, but he didn't know how. All he could do was fidget nervously while trying to come up with a response.

She didn’t give him any time. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t care.”

He heard her storm away back into the ship.

“Wait!” he called, whirling round, still not sure what to say.

She turned back. “What?” she snapped.

Now what? "It- It’s not you," he blurted out, and then winced almost immediately at how insincere and cliched that sounded.

“Really? That’s what you’re going with? That stupid ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ crap?”

“No, I-”

“Save it!” she snapped, and oh, Agni, she was _crying_. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her cry before; not even Azula had ever managed it, to his knowledge.

This time when she stormed below, he couldn’t bring himself to try stopping her.

⁂

He had to tell her, he knew. Well, maybe not _tell her_ , as such. (He wasn’t sure if he could find the words.) But he needed to find a way to explain that it really wasn’t her, that there was something wrong with _him_.

It hurt that they would inevitably break up, but that would happen anyway if she thought he hated her, and it was only right that she shouldn’t feel bad about it.

He wanted to say it right though, so instead of following her (which had a high likelihood of getting him stabbed), he went back to his own cabin, pulled out paper and ink, and sat down at his writing desk.

He used up most of the sheets of paper he had, trying out various versions of his confession speech.

There was one where he told her absolutely nothing, but did everything he could to explain that it was something that was wrong with him, not her.

(It rang hollow, and felt like lying, even though nothing in it was an actual lie. Azula would be proud. He burned it.)

Then he tried a version where he did tell her, but did so by dancing around implications and suggestions, saying nothing outright, but making it clear enough that someone as smart as her would understand what he was trying to say.

(It felt horribly insincere, as well as pointless cowardice for the sake of cowardice – what was the point in skirting around an issue that was obvious to anyone reading? He burned that as well.)

Next he poured out everything onto the paper, every horrific detail (that he could remember), every sickening memory, every terrified thought and flashback, every fear, all his shame, not wanting to leave any illusions for him to hide behind.

(He burned the last one before the ink had even begun to dry.)

The candles burned down as he went through attempt after attempt, draft after draft.

At some point he fell asleep slumped over the desk, only to resume his efforts as the dawn broke and the morning sun streamed through the porthole.

He ran out of both ink and paper and had to go to the ship’s stores for more. He wasn’t sure if it was his royal status or the look on his face, but the quartermaster dumped an insane amount of paper and several bottles into his hands and then fled.

Every attempt at a draft took so long, because he felt as if he was carving out pieces of his soul and laying them out on the paper, and he had to keep pausing just to breathe and remind himself that it was over now, Zhao was dead, he couldn’t hurt him anymore. (Except he could, and still was.)

It wasn’t until midday that he felt he had something worthy.

No, not worthy. Not remotely.

Suitable, that’s what it was.

Adequate. Barely.

He went to Mai’s cabin and knocked, hoping she wouldn’t answer, not wanting to hand this to her in person. For once his luck was in. He darted inside, left the letter on the desk, and left as quickly as he came.

⁂

He saw her around the ship at several points that afternoon. He did not approach her, and she avoided him.

He wasn’t sure if that was because she had read the letter yet or not.

_- **Mai** -_

Mai was practiced at burying her emotions so deep that even she sometimes forgot how to feel things. But now she was so angry that the crew was looking at her warily. One guy had even run away from her, even though that took him in the direction Azula had gone in.

How terrifying were you when _Azula_ seemed the safer option?

She was just... Ugh.

When Azula had explained that Zuko had sided with them, helped take down the Avatar, she hadn't been sure what to think. The adorable prince that she'd stolen kisses with in palace alcoves, who'd blushed so easily whenever a servant had stumbled across them, seemed so long ago.

He'd been at sea, in the war. Travelling all over the world. While she'd sat quietly, berated by her parents whenever she so much as breathed wrong. (They'd been stricter than ever after he'd gone. "You see?" her mother had told her. "That's what happens to those who speak when they shouldn't.")

He was bound to have changed. Probably forgotten her. And after travelling the world, he'd probably seen plenty of girls in ports he'd visited. The sort of girls her mother wanted her to be like. (And probably plenty of the girls that her mother warned her she should _not_ be like, but men seemed to want far more than the first sort anyway.)

And then there was the scar.

She knew she shouldn't go on outward appearances. But she'd heard whisperings of what his face had looked like from people who'd seen him carried from the Agni Kai arena, or who knew somebody (who knew somebody) who had. And Azula had regaled her with lurid descriptions of the extent of the scarring.

(There were wanted posters with his face on, she knew, but she'd refused to look for any.)

It... had been worse than she'd expected, but also better. It was horrible, taking up most of the left side of his face, forcing his eye almost closed and leaving his ear a withered ruin, and she'd found herself staring, wondering how much it had hurt, and how long for (whether it still hurt...). She'd had to force herself to look away. But, it was still his face, and after a few days, she'd almost forgotten it was there, accepted it as simply part of how he looked now. Even though it made it trickier than it might otherwise have been to determine his facial expressions. The only acknowledgement she made was to always approach from his unscarred side, since it didn’t seem he could see much from his left eye. (Could he see anything?)

Things were awkward at first, which was to be expected. They had both grown and changed, physically and mentally and emotionally. But he was still the same person underneath it all, still trying to be confident, but blushing and awkward and easily flustered, and he seemed to like her.

But... The awkwardness didn't fade as they spent time together getting used to each other. It actually got _worse_. It was almost as if he wanted to run away whenever she got close.

And he was hiding things. When he talked to her about his travels, it seemed as if there were things he wasn't telling her. Gaps in his stories. Moments where he got halfway through some tale or other, then stumbled on some minor detail, stopped, and resumed the story obviously skipping over something.

There was other weird stuff as well. In a port they'd stopped at, she'd found a tea shop selling matcha. Her mother had had plenty of words on the subject of tea ceremonies in courting. She and Zuko weren’t really courting as such – not officially – but maybe it was worth a try. So she'd purchased some, along with the proper tools, and gone to the effort of a proper tea ceremony (as proper a one as she could manage anyway, in the grim metal surroundings of a naval ship and without the formal clothing or flower arrangements).

He'd been polite enough, completed all the steps perfectly, drinking the tea.

But he'd seemed so uncomfortable the whole time.

Perhaps he'd been expecting her to make a move? Even though that wasn't proper tea ceremony etiquette.

Then again, the way he reacted when she did make a move, however small, she doubted it.

Even just brushing a hand against his arm was enough for him to push her away, looking revolted. Yesterday, he'd been so disgusted by her that he'd actually thrown up.

She'd cried afterwards, even as she hated herself for doing so, weeping over some idiot boy like some stupid girl in a play. What was wrong with her? Was she being too pushy? Maybe her mother was right, and men really did not like Mai for being herself.

But when she'd tried to be the perfect doll who simply poured tea, that hadn't worked either.

The tears had turned to anger. How dare he! What was his problem?

Perhaps he just preferred men? That was illegal in the Fire Nation, so Agni knew there were plenty of couples who repulsed each other but married someone they were expected to marry, just for show. But if that was it then he should just tell her.

She’d made the mistake of going up on deck for some fresh air, as the walls of her cabin felt like they were pressing in on her, and she’d been too angry to make sleep even a remote possibility.

And there he’d been with some feeble excuse about how it wasn’t her, it was him.

Ugh how stupid did he think she was to fall for that nonsense?

She’d fled before he could see her tears. Not that he’d even care.

Not that Mai cared. _She didn’t_.

⁂

She avoided him the next day. It was up to him to apologise to her, and she had no intention of forgiving him until he did. She just refused. But while she caught glimpses of him, he avoided her.

⁂

She was exhausted by the time she got back to her cabin – Ty Lee had spent the day trying to cheer her up, and Azula had enjoyed making various snide remarks speculating on what particular inadequacy of Zuko’s had caused this rift – so it wasn’t until she’d changed into her nightclothes and brushed out her hair that she spotted the roll of paper on her desk, her name on it.

Her first thought was a letter from her parents, and someone had placed it here instead of bringing it straight to her when the messenger hawk brought it in.

Then she recognised Zuko’s handwriting.

So this was it. They were stuck on a ship together and he still couldn’t dump her in person.

She was tempted to feed it straight into one of the torches, but her curiosity was too strong. Sitting down at the desk, she unrolled it and began to read.

_“Dear Mai,_

_I’m sorry. Telling you all this in a letter is the coward’s way, but I can’t bring myself to do it in person. I mean it when I say that the fault is all with me, and I am absolutely certain that you will want nothing to do with me once you know the truth. All I ask is that you burn this after reading it. You’re right that I’ve been keeping secrets, but I’m not ready for anyone to know them. I’m not ready for you to know them, but I feel that I owe it to you to be honest._

_It started when I was 14. On my birthday, in fact…”_

The longer she read, the worse it got. And the worst bits of all were not where he described what had happened to him, but the blame he cast on himself.

“… _I couldn’t explain to anyone what had happened. I wanted to. I tried. But I was weak. I’d put myself in that position...”_

She was crying again now, but not from anger, not anymore.

_“…I swear I never meant to hurt you. I like you, I really do. A lot. I just can’t bring myself to allow anyone to touch me because all I can remember is him. But I should have told you – you have a right to know._

_I don’t deserve you, and you can do so much better._

_I know we’ll see each other around, since you are friends with my sister and we will inevitably cross paths. But I give you my word that I will not go out of my way to seek you out.”_

She knelt on the floor re-reading the letter over and over and over until she practically knew it by heart, even as she wanted to burn the knowledge of ever reading it from her brain.

_- **Zuko** -_

He lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, exhausted by hours spent doing nothing, because he couldn’t concentrate on anything. All he could do was just sit and wait (and hope).

She must have seen the letter by now. But… nothing.

It shouldn’t hurt. It was what he’d expected. Saying it all in a letter had been partially about getting the words out coherently, but also to spare himself from having to deal with her disgust.

But some small part of him had actually dared to hope.

He never learned, did he?

And then there was a knock on his door.

“Yes?” he asked, hoping it was Mai, and praying that it wasn’t.

There was a long pause, and he thought they might have gone away, and then the door opened and Mai stepped in.

Holding the letter.

He sat up, determined to face what was coming.

And then she told him, “You’re wrong.”

He recoiled in shock, that last tiny spark of hope dying as he slumped back down on the bed and curled in on himself, letting the tears that he’d been holding in all day finally fall.

(What did it matter now? She already thought he was weak and pathetic – crying like a child would make no difference.)

There was movement, and Mai was right in front of him. “No, I didn’t mean it like that!”

He opened his eyes to see her kneeling by the bed. She reached out toward him, but withdrew her hand when he flinched away. (He thought she might be crying too, but it was hard to tell through the haze of his own tears.)

She looked down at the letter crumpled in her hand as he blinked, trying to clear his vision. When she looked up again, he could see her face was damp.

“I mean, you’re wrong about how it’s your fault. It’s not, and I hate that you think it is.”

“But-”

“No, Zuko,” she interrupted, tilting her head and leaning to one side to try to look at him properly. “It’s-”

She huffed in frustration, and he flinched. He’d made her angry with his cowering.

And then she lay down on the bed. Right on the edge of the opposite side to him, but his nerves spiked and he wriggled away even further, almost falling off the other side. But she made no further move toward him, and after a long few moments he allowed himself to relax, just a little.

She looked him in the eye, properly now, and he could see no sign of revulsion there. Either she was an even better liar than Azula, or…

“It’s not your fault, Zuko. I mean it. You’re not weak for not being able to fight off a grown man while drugged. You’re not pathetic because you relied on other people to protect you. You’re not some kind of failure because you get scared of things that remind you of what happened.”

She held out a hand, letting it rest in the space between them. An invitation.

“You’re not disgusting because somebody did something horrible to you.”

After a pause, he reached out with his own.

She intertwined their fingers.

He started crying again, this time from relief, as well as shock (she really didn’t hate him?). She tensed, as if she was about to hug him, but she didn’t, instead simply squeezing his hand.

“You- You don’t hate me?”

She smiled at him. “No. I actually kind of like you.”

She reached out a hand to his face, before thinking better of it and pulling back.

He took a deep breath. “It’s okay. You can- I don’t mind.”

She nodded, and reached out, stroking his cheek. It didn’t feel bad. It actually felt kind of nice.

Hesitantly, he shuffled a little so he was closer to her. Not touching, just… closer. Watching him carefully for his reaction, she mirrored his movement. Nothing bad happened. No dark memories clawed their way out of his subconscious to poison the present.

They lay there for a few precious moments, before a slight frown crossed her face. Was she having second thoughts?

“Did…” She hesitated, before trying again. “I’m sorry I forced you to sit through that tea ceremony.”

“No, it’s okay. Zhao… He- He didn’t exactly bother with the fancy stuff, you know.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, like it was no big deal, but he knew he wasn’t convincing.

She squeezed his hand again.

“It was a little uncomfortable, but it was fine,” he admitted. “I know you must have spent a lot of money on that.”

She punched him – gently – in the shoulder. “It’s not fine, idiot! I’m not making you uncomfortable just because I spent money on something!”

“I mean it. Uncle was-” he pushed away the flash of guilt. “Uncle was trying to help with that. Tea is… it’s kind of everywhere? So he was helping me get used to it, so I didn’t freak out every time we walked past a tea vendor. He was always careful about it, and I knew I could trust him-”

His right eye widened as he realised he’d just implied that he _didn’t_ trust her. “Uh, not that-”

She smiled at him, gently. “It’s okay. I get it.”

This time he was the one to squeeze her hand.

“It _was_ nice, that you did that, for me. I mean it, Mai. It’s just, being served tea, and not being sure what to expect. That was the uncomfortable part.”

She peered at him, trying to determine if he was just lying to appease her feelings or not. “Okay. If you say so. But I’ll only make it for you again if you ask, okay?”

“Okay.”

They fall silent, just lying there next to each other. It… didn’t feel terrible.

But he wasn’t sure he could offer her anything beyond this.

“Mai… I don’t know if I can- If I’ll ever be able to…” he trailed off.

“It’s okay. I waited three years for you to come home. I can wait a few more for you to feel safe.”

**Author's Note:**

> You better savour that fluff because the next instalment in the series will feature Ozai's reaction.
> 
> Question time! ~~When it comes to the Gaang's reactions, do you guys want Yue to be there, seeing as the attack on the Northern Water Tribe never happened in this AU? Like I figure after they told her about the war, she'd maybe want to see something of the world in order to serve her people better? Thoughts?~~ [EDIT: Decided against this in the end.]
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [Maiqueen](https://maiqueen.tumblr.com/).
> 
> I am also on Fanexus. Think if Livejournal, Tumblr, & Ao3 got thrown in a blender. I can't share a link to that one because it's in closed beta. If you're also one of the lucky few to gain admittance, then you can find me camped out in the ATLA & Devil May Cry tags. You can find out more about the platform [here](https://twitter.com/fanexus) (there's a link in the pinned thread to join the Discord & be first in line for beta invites). Otherwise I guess you just have to be patient. But as soon as it opens up to more people I'll be able to share it. :D


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